Drunken Werewolves
by Eggbertio
Summary: AU, Isaac/Allison - For Isaac's 21st birthday, Scott and Derek take him to celebrate with a guy's night out. He wants to keep the party going, so he invites his two friends to the house he shares with Allison. How will she handle a drunken werewolf trio knocking on her door at 3 AM?


**A/N: This is an AU where Isaac is British. The story is told from Allison's POV.**

I couldn't believe someone rung my doorbell at three o'clock in the morning. I opened one sleepy eye and looked at the blurry red digits on the alarm clock. My mouth dropped. _No, the time couldn't be right_. A decent person wouldn't come to my off-campus townhouse at this late hour. _Wrong!_ The bell rang again. I grumbled lowly as I ground my teeth in annoyance. Just as I opened my mouth to ask my boyfriend, Isaac, to answer the door, I realized his arms weren't wrapped around me. He wasn't holding me in his usual protective embrace. I turned toward his side of the bed and found myself sleeping alone. I gasped as panic immediately set in and I thought the worse. _Oh God, the Beacon Hills Police are at my front door and waiting to tell me horrifying news that Isaac was in an accident_. The visualization was all I needed to jump out of bed and run down the stairs.

When I reached the front door, I held my breath as I stepped slowly toward the peep-hole. _P__lease don't let me see people in beige police uniforms standing on the other side_. I took a few more steps and leaned against the door to take a peek. I almost jumped out my skin when the bell rang a third time, followed by a slow knock and male laughter. I recognized one of the voices and the familiar British accent.

"My bloody keys are around here somewhere," Isaac said.

He was home safely. I sighed in relief and opened the door. To my surprise, Derek stood in front of me. He wasn't really standing; he was leaning against the door frame. The outdoor light illuminated his tall, muscular form, but his head was lowered, hiding his face from my view. He slowly raised it so I could see his chiseled jaw with dark stubble. Pale green eyes looked up at me beneath lowered lids and a smile slowly spread wide across his face.

"Hey, Al. Wassup?" _Oh, my_ _God_. He was stinking drunk...literally. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

My eyes widened and I yelled, "Derek? What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer; he just continued to smile. Derek stepped to the side like he wanted to reveal something to me. Raising his arm slowly, he pointed to Isaac crawling on the front lawn. "Isaac said we could come over," he slurred in a low voice.

Shaking my head, I spoke loudly. "Isaac! What the hell are you doing?"

Isaac paused and looked over at me. "Babe, I can't find my bloody keys." His impaired speech sounded very similar to Derek's. He laughed as he continued combing the grass with his hands. For a moment, he lifted his head and said, "It's _your_ fault, Scott. You made me drop them."

_Scott is here, too?_ My eyes followed Isaac's gaze, and low and behold...Scott crawled on the grass a few feet away. He laughed, "What are you talking about? I didn't make you drop them. You're just a klutz."

Derek's voice regained my attention. "It's nice to see you again. You look..." He wasn't steady on his feet and his inebriated gaze traveled the full length of my body. Once our eyes met, he finished his sentence. "Pretty. I like your nightgown." He snickered, but it ended abruptly when I scowled and crossed my arms tightly against my chest. "Yep, we're actually here and we're completely shit-faced." He laughed again, and that's when I noticed his car parked halfway in my driveway and halfway on my lawn.

"What the hell is that?" I shouted. I walked outside barefoot and pointed at it. "Who parked the car"?

Derek staggered over and stood beside me. "Uh...that would be me. Sorry about that."

I couldn't keep my attention on Derek's terrible parking skills, because I saw Isaac fall facedown. I ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders to help him. He mumbled a few incoherent words, but I caught a British curse word or two.

As I lifted my drunken boyfriend to his knees, I heard Scott yell excitedly, "I found them! I found them!" I looked over at him, and he was near the front bushes lining the house, holding the keys in the air.

"Baby, how'd your keys get way over there?"

Isaac looked like he was about to topple over at any moment. I immediately grabbed his waist to steady him. "I don't know, babe. Scott made me drop them. Maybe he kicked them, too." All of a sudden, he moved to a crouching position and beckoned to Scott. "Throw them over here, mate!" His stance made him look like a baseball catcher.

Scott looked completely ridiculous-like he forgot how to throw. I cracked a grin at the deep concentration on his face. He positioned his arm to throw the keys, but with squinted eyes, I don't think he was sure of his target.

Finally, I had enough of their drunken behavior and walked swiftly over to Scott. "Oh, for God's sake," I said as I snatched the keys out of his hand. I turned my attention back to Isaac who actually made it to his feet, but swayed like a young palm tree in the wind. I noticed Derek had disappeared and I assumed he went inside the house since the front door was wide open.

I heard Scott's voice below me, sounding child-like and helpless. "Allison, I've fallen and I can't get up." I looked down at him on his knees. His hand grasped my nightgown and his brown eyes gazed up at me with a pleading look. A second later, a crooked smile spread wide on his face. With a heavy sigh, I rolled my eyes and grabbed his shoulders to help him stand.

When Isaac stumbled over to us, I said, "Here are your lost keys, Mister Lahey." I dropped the keys in the palm of his hand, and he shoved them into the front pocket of his jeans.

"Thanks, love," he replied, leaning down to place a sloppy kiss on the side of my eye.

He and Scott followed me as I walked back into the house. I glanced over my shoulder and saw neither of them could walk in a straight line. They bumped into each other at least twice. Once I entered the living room, I saw Derek lounging on the recliner with his eyes closed. I walked past him to sit on the sofa, but I caught him peek at me. He gave me a lazy grin before he shut his eyes again.

Isaac plopped down next to me on the sofa and quickly made himself comfortable by laying down with his head in my lap. His glazed blue eyes looked up at me and I instantly read the message behind them. He emitted a low rumble when I combed my fingers through his curly brown hair.

Scott sat on the loveseat adjacent from Derek, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He looked like he'd fall asleep at any minute. It was obvious they were all three sheets to the wind. Despite being werewolves, copious amounts of alcohol affected them the same way it affects humans. My brain pressed an internal rewind button and I remembered Derek parked the car. But he was drunk, which meant he drove under the influence and his reflexes were not as sharp as they usually are. I was extremely disturbed by this revelation, and my detective side wanted more information about what the guys had been doing all night.

I decided to start with Isaac first. "Um, baby…why didn't you guys take a cab home or call me to pick you up? Why did you let Derek drive you home knowing he was drunk, too? Don't you realize he could've killed someone? Most people don't heal as quickly as you guys. Did you see how he parked the car?" I know I sounded like a mother hen, but I couldn't help it. I cared about all the guys, but Isaac meant the world to me. I didn't want to lose him because he made a stupid error in judgment and allowed a drunken friend to drive him home.

Isaac answered me sleepily. "I didn't want to call you, because you would've seen the strippers and got cross with me. One of us had to drive."

My eyebrows shot upward. "What strippers?" I whipped my head toward Scott and spoke in a clipped voice. "You took Isaac to see _strippers_?"

Scott responded coolly. "We took him out to drink, and the strippers were already there."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "Whatever." A question brewed in the back of my mind as I assessed each of the guys' level of drunkenness. "So…you guys just decided whoever was the least drunk would drive?"

Derek chuckled low in this throat. "Yep. And _I _was the least drunk." I looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. If _he_ was the least drunk, then Isaac was probably in a drunken oblivion right now. "Scott could barely walk and was falling in love with a bar stool. And your boyfriend…" His eyes settled on Isaac lying comfortably in my lap. Derek laughed lightly and shook his head. I wondered if he was reliving a humorous memory. He confirmed my assumption when he said, "I can't even begin to tell you how fucked up he was."

I could feel sleepiness bearing down on me. I got up from the sofa and Isaac reached out and grabbed my hand. "Where are you going?" His eyes were wide and I detected desperation in his voice.

I sighed heavily. "I'm really tired, Isaac. Do you know what time it is?"

He frowned and looked upset.

"I'm going back to bed." All of a sudden, he dropped my hand and reached his arms out to me. He gave me his cute, wolf pup eyes, but I was too exhausted to submit to him. "I'm not staying down here with you if that's what you're asking."

He shook his head and his eyelids drooped. "No, help me up. If you're going to bed, then I'm going to bed, too."

I waved my arm in the direction of his two partners in crime. "What about your _mates_? You're just going to leave them down here?" Someone let out a loud snore, and I saw Derek was out cold. Maybe he was really asleep or maybe he was pretending, so I wouldn't kick them out.

I heard Scott's pleading voice. "Can we spend the night, Allison? Pretty please? We promise we won't puke all over your furniture." I looked over at him and he gave me a charming smile. I put a hand on my hip and pursed my lips as my eyes rested on each of their inebriated forms lying around my living room. When my gaze met Scott's again, he put his hands together like he was praying.

"Fine," I said irritably. "Goodnight." I stepped over Isaac's body, because he had fallen off the sofa and landed on the carpet. My feet moved quickly and I exited the living room. I walked toward the stairs, but stopped in my tracks when Isaac called out to me.

"Allison! Help me! I'm not going to make it up the stairs!" I sighed again. "Pleeeease, darling! I need you!"

"Oh, get your drunk-ass up!" Scott said, laughing.

Isaac made a grumbling sound of frustration, but when he started to whine…I gave into him and turned around.

I helped Isaac up the stairs by acting like a crutch on his right side. Once we made it to our bedroom, I dropped him onto the bed and then closed the door. I was so exhausted that I wanted to leave him there so I could go to sleep. I tried to climb into bed, but he grabbed my hand. I forgot he could see well in the dark.

"Can you help me get undressed?"

"Just sleep in your clothes. It won't kill you." I tried to escape his grasp, but he was too strong and held on tight. When I felt him kiss the back of my hand, I melted under his touch. I undressed him in the dark, but only down to his boxer briefs.

He sighed in contentment. "Thanks, love. I appreciate it. My clothes smelled like beer."

I tossed his clothes on the floor and gave him a friendly reminder. "Don't think we're making love tonight, because we're not. I'm too tired and you're too drunk." I climbed under the comforter and he joined me in seconds.

He spooned behind me, and I felt him kiss the nape of my neck. "That's okay," he whispered. "I'll just shag you rotten _twice_ tomorrow night." I couldn't help but chuckle at his brazenness. With the warmth of my lover surrounding me, it didn't take long to fall back to sleep in his comforting embrace.

The next morning, my eyes fell upon a scene I was very unfamiliar with. I clapped a hand over my mouth to smother my laughter when I saw Scott's head and arm dangling over the cushion with his mouth wide open, and Derek balled up in a fetal position on the recliner. I smiled as some wickedness brewed in my mind. A little torture was in order for their lack of good judgment last night.

I tip-toed out the living room and went into the kitchen to get my devices. When I returned, I carried a stainless-steel pot and wooden spoon in my hands. I counted to three internally before I banged on the pot like I was calling the cavalry to supper. Within three seconds, a pair of green eyes, and a pair of brown snapped open. Agonizing moans came from Derek and Scott's mouths.

"Time to get up!" I yelled a lot louder than necessary. "You ain't got to go home, but you got to get the _hell_ out of here!"

The guys grabbed their heads in obvious pain. Oh, the satisfaction I felt by torturing people with hangovers. I knew they had killer headaches, and I grinned from ear-to-ear, basking in their discomfort. Scott mirrored Isaac's actions from last night when he fell off the loveseat, only to land ungraciously onto the carpet.

I didn't hear Isaac come down the stairs. I gasped in surprise when he grabbed the pot out of my hand. "Are you mad, woman? Why did you wake us up with this fucking racket? You know we have hangovers!" I gave him a condescending look and he grinned sheepishly. "Oh." I flashed a devilish smile. "You're wicked, you know that?" He said quietly.

"Yes, I know." I fluttered my eyelashes in false innocence.

"Hey, Allison, can you make us some strong coffee?" Derek asked. "I think we could all use some." I shot him a stony look. "Uh…that is…if it's not too much trouble." He wore a cautious expression like he wasn't sure what other loud objects I had at my disposal.

Isaac laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and he gave me a warm smile. As I let myself get lost in his blue eyes that were adorably puffy from sleep, I thought about how if nice Allison was here, she would undoubtedly help the man she loves and his two friends by aiding them with some hangover relief. But Huntress Argent was here, and she still held a grudge for being awakened at three o'clock in the morning. She was still upset that her boyfriend let a drunken friend drive him home. So, she felt _all_ the men deserved a little more punishment.

Without warning, I banged the spoon rapidly on the pot Isaac was holding. He yelled and grabbed his head, but his actions caused the pot to fall and he yelled even louder when it landed on his bare foot. The other hung-over guys in the room also made sounds of pain. Suddenly, I was struck with a brilliant idea. I smiled sweetly and spoke in an even sweeter tone. "I know…why don't you guys use your werewolf healing powers to cure your hangover? Then, you can move that fucking car off my front lawn and go home!"

I didn't wait for a response from anyone. I just turned on my heel and marched back upstairs. I could use a few more hours of sleep, anyway.


End file.
